


Wisdom vs Knowledge

by Wickedly_Laughable



Series: WvsK [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Autistic Dipper Pines, Autistic Mabel Pines, Gen, Jewish Characters, Multi, Pirate AU, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sea Monsters, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Twenty-ish Mabel and Dipper, fuck me with a spike bayonet i love pirate aus, myths and legends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wickedly_Laughable/pseuds/Wickedly_Laughable
Summary: Eighteenth century Spain is no place for a family of three. Eighteenth century Spain is home to war, famine, greediness, pirates, monsters, and it holds no place for their hopes and dreams. But, by the Creator Himself, Dipper and Mabel will survive against these odds. Whether or not it means bringing everything down with them.





	1. Introduction (To Thievery)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Devil with a Silver Compass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4281144) by [Biscoote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biscoote/pseuds/Biscoote), [interstellareloquence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellareloquence/pseuds/interstellareloquence). 



_“¡Eh, tú! ¡Regresa aquí!”_

_‘Over my dead body.’_ Dipper Pines thought. But, seeing the look on their faces and the incriminating book he was holding to his chest that seemed like a possibility in his future. Cursing under his breath, Dipper fled out into the open square, hoping the crowd would provide cover from the Santa Hermandads.

He could feel sweat drip down his back and the burning sensation in his legs as they carried him through the feel of fabric and cobblestone. _‘Today would’ve been the perfect day to look for some work,’_ Dipper thought, feeling the breeze on his face, _‘But it is also the perfect day to get away with a crime.’_

Except he could hear the yelling of the two men steadily come closer to him. Shit. There’s only one thing that could help him in this type of situation.

“What would Mabel do?” Dipper muttered to himself in-between gulps of air. Frantically, he looked around his environment. There were lots of people around, but that wasn’t going to help him much since these guys were persistent. Act as if he was with someone? Too risky. Hide somewhere? The voices were too close, and no visible barrels and such were around. So that just leaves…

Dipper rushed into in the entrance of a familiar-looking store. Bingo!

“Stop!” The two hermandads came through the door, yelling. A scream rang through the tiny store after the command was spoken. The hermandads suddenly froze, gawking.

“We apologize Señora-“ “Please forgive us-“ “We are looking for a fugitive that ran into your lovely place-“

“Get out!” the storekeeper yelled. “No one has entered my shop but you hooligans! Get out! Get out!”

The Santa Hermandads beat a hasty retreat, once again running into the crowd. Dipper sighed in relief, but dared not take off the headset and dress. Using a persona has no purpose if you were simply going to dispose of it so soon, but he was also concerned about the owner of the store returning.

The book!

In his frantic dressing he forgot about the book! What was the use of all this if he lost it?

Disregarding the womanly persona, Dipper starting looking for the illegal book, searching every corner of the strange store. The more time passed, the more hastily he looked. The sun was starting to set, and- He found it!

“Listen, I don’t care if you’re Maria Theresa, if you’re looting my shop I’m going to rip out your eyeballs and use your face as the shop’s mascot flag if you don’t give me my shit back.”

Dipper froze, hiding the book in his pants under the dress. Busted yet again, and it doesn’t look like he can get out of this one easily. Turning around, Dipper grimly resigned himself to his fate and faced the man who threaten him. Getting his eyeballs ripped out seemed like a downright pleasant experience when compared to how his family would react to the book he stole. Speaking of family…

In front of Dipper stood a man much taller than he, with gray hair framing a sharp jaw. The older man was holding a rusty, dull sword, probably meaning to attack shoplifters with it. How he could’ve done so though with such a disgraceful weapon would’ve been quite an impressive sight to behold. But if anyone could do so, it would definably be his great Grunkle Stan Pines.

Once seeing Dipper’s face, the man dropped the sword on the nearest shelf and started grinning like a fox. Dipper made a face at him. The grin turned into chuckles.

“Well now, if I had known that you liked wearing dresses I would’ve bought you some on my way to the market. But I’m guessing, based on my keen senses and your ability to get into too much trouble with public persons, that this wasn’t to experiment with some new fashion of your Sis’ doing.” He frowned. “Where the hell is Wendy?”

Dipper sheepishly smiled. The hired shopkeeper was known for skipping the job whenever she fancied to go swim in the lake with her brothers. If not for her being able to turn a blind eye to the ‘missing’ money in the record book and Grunkle Stan’s secretly pushover personality, she would have been fired the day she was hired.

“She’s probably at the beach again.” Replied Dipper. He started struggling out of the dress. It was getting far too itchy, and he didn’t want to wait around in it in case his sister decided to show up.

Something smacked down to the floor with a ‘plop!’ Dipper internally groaned. Today was not his lucky day. Grunkle Stan picked up the book before Dripper had time to react and in his raspy voice read the title: “ _Chesed le-Abraham_ by Abraham Azulai, huh?” Stan squinted his eyes at his nephew. “I’m guessing this somehow has something to do with the dress and the two hermandads I saw snooping around my shop a little earlier.” Dipper continued to avert his eyes, now more out of guilt than the usual discomfort.

“You know how I feel about you doing these sorts of things.” Grunkle Stan continued. The younger man inwardly bristled at the statement. ‘ _He’s such a hypocrite!’_ Dipper thought, _‘Stealing books is banned, but it’s okay for him to scam other people with faulty merchandise?’_

“Look,” started Stan, “I know how…important this is for you-“

“For me?” Dipper asked, in a mocking, surprised voice, “You mean you don’t seem to care about our books being burned? You don’t seem to care how they want to destroy us, destroy our culture! When the hermandads came to our door telling us we’d be executed or exiled if we didn’t follow the church you certainly didn’t fucking hesitate to say ‘Alight’!”

His grunkle became defensive. “You think it was an easy choice, boy? Well I’ll tell you, I’m not going to be responsible for you and your sis’ death! We can’t leave, don’t you see that? Going to another country, with strangers and people who don’t know our language, with persons probably just going to drive us out and rob us too!” Stan’s voice became quieter. “I’m trying to help you. You’re not thinking about your sister, Dipper. She’s getting caught up in this too.”

Dipper became quiet at the mention of his twin. He really…didn’t think about how this would affect the people he cared about. Taking a book written by a Jewish author meant for burning was a crime that was punished by hanging for everyone in the house the book was found in. If the hermandads found out about the Jewish book he was in possession of, it would mean death for his small family.

Dipper hesitated. A stretch of silence fell between both of the men, lost in thought. Dust continued to slowly flow in and out of the sunset’s glow. The quiet creaking of the room upstairs hinted at a presence listening in. Stan signed and gently laid his calloused hand on Dipper’s bony shoulder, saying “You better go say hello to your sis.”

His nephew turned towards him. “What about the book?” he asked, willing to let the previous subject sleep for now.

“I’ll keep it down in the basement with the other books. Now go on; I think Mabel is making soup tonight.”

Dipper winced. They had been having soup for the past week. You can only eat Matzah balls for so long, but Dipper obediently went up the narrow stairs to help Mabel peel the potatoes. The fact she had probably been ‘preoccupied’ with other things meant it was not far-fetched to think that dinner was behind schedule. Besides that, Dipper truly enjoyed his twin’s company, despite the nosy inclination she harbored.

Having finished the climb towards certain the common room, Dipper surveyed the scene. Various, sometimes disturbing, inventions of his great grunkle’s creation littered the floor. In the middle of it all stood a woman, looking as if she had peacefully been there, chopping carrots the whole time. If Dipper had not known better then he would’ve been fooled by the impressive act.

Mabel flashed a grin at him, showing crooked teeth. Dipper made an unattractive made a face at her, and she laughed, beckoning him to sit on the floor next to her.

“Would a handsome man such as you humor an old lady like me into what _that_ conversation was about? Grunkle Stan usually doesn’t do angry yelling; he just does normal yelling most of the time, and it’s always at me.”

Dipper gave an exaggerated sigh, picking up a spare knife. He started peeling the potatoes scattered around, trying to collect his thoughts. But first-

“You are only two minutes older than me. Two minutes.”

“Whatever suits your fancy, little brother.” Mabel said, grinning at the mock fight Dipper tried to start. He was very bad at changing subjects.

Dipper continued peeling to try and gather his thoughts. It seemed like he wasn’t going to get out of this conversation. Licking his lips, he stared at the potato in his hand, feeling the weight and rough surface. Dipper looked towards the figure next to him, simply observing the rhythmic chopping being done. His sister’s hair pooled around her, bare and flowing. Mabel was focused on the vegetables with a calm expression on her face, waiting for Dipper to continue speaking. Two pairs of small, scarred hands continued working under the silence.

 _‘I don’t want to lose this.’_ Dipper thought. ‘ _I don’t want to lose moments like these.’_

Dipper shifted his position and started retelling his day, saying, “So I was walking along the port, looking for some work on the boats, perfectly innocent-“

“I’m sure.” Mabel dryly stated.

“As I said,” continued Dipper, “Perfectly innocent walking. To the right of me in the middle of the street I suddenly saw a pile of books! I had never seen so many books in one place before. And so I go up to the Santa Hermandads in front of this pile and I ask, ever so kindly, ‘What are these pile of books doing here, sir?’ and he says to me ‘These books are for burning by order of the law. Now get.’ And I say to myself, ‘I am definitely going to steal these books.’”

“Oh no, Dipper.” Mabel stretched out the last syllable like taffy, but he talked on, “-so I think to myself ‘What would Mabel do?’-“

“Don’t smear my good name!”

“-and I decided I needed a distraction. So I took an apple from the bazar in plain sight-“

“Dipper!” Mabel interjected.

“I eventually gave it back! Let me finish!” Dipper huffed. “So I took the apple, and when the owner yelled at me I started running, which caused the two closest hermandads, the ones near the book pile, to give chase. I dove into the alleyways and zigzags along the paths, so that it was hard for them to keep me in their sights. I made a loop, gave back the apple, grabbed a book, and kept running until I was able to out-wit them.”

“Dipper-“ Mabel started, but Dipper continued, overlapping her, “And I didn’t even know they were Jewish books until I managed to get here!”

 Silence.

Brother and sister stared at each other.

“That was dangerous.” Mabel said quietly. “If it was a goy book then the worst you could’ve gotten would’ve been a flogging. It was even more dangerous for you to bring it here, in our home! Don’t you realize-“

“I know!” Dipper yelled, but then quickly lowered his voice. “I knew the risks and I still came here because I believe in this! I believe in us! I believe that sitting here, doing nothing but peeling potatoes and cutting carrots is no life to live, even as marranos. We have to do something to keep us living in this world long after we’ve passed through it. I can’t be like you, Mabel.”

The last sentence was prematurely halted with a familiar sounding ‘plop!’. Dipper instinctively looked in the direction of the noise, and stopped. He looked at Mabel. Mabel was grinning ear to ear, and as Dipper continued staring at her in disbelief the smug smile eventually turned into a full, hearty laugh.

“How..?” Dipper started, picking up the book _Mishneh Torah_ by Maimonides.

“How did you-? Mabel!” Dipper tried to get his sister attention, but she remained mirthful.

“I-“ She tried to speak in-between laughter, which proved a difficult task. Nonetheless, she persisted. “I- um- while you were,” More joyful noise arose, “While you were doing the, the thing, with your clever trick in the square! I-“ Impossibly, the laughter grew louder. “I was there! And I took this book while you were being chased by the hermandads for- for an apple!”

The carrots and potatoes forgotten entirely, Dipper could only scrounge his remaining brain cells to stare, dumfounded at his sister’s clever ruse. Mabel remained with her full body on the floor, howling with glee at the perfectly executed joke. Dipper continued to look on, and then decided that there was only one thing to do in this situation.

Revenge.

Placing the book gently on the floor, he dove for the unattended flour sitting by the pot. Deception by his own kin would not be tolerated.

 “No!” Mabel fruitlessly screamed as Dipper covered her in flour. The first stone was thrown, and now war was decreed. Mabel quickly stood up from the floor to gain advantage over her enemy, picking up two handfuls of flour on the way. Dipper tried running to the other end of the room to a safer location, but his sister was already armed. She threw the flour at him, and Dipper screamed in false hurt.

* * *

 

Stan Pines popped his head up the top of the stairs, browsing the scene. Two-thirds of the living room was covered in flour, including the spot where he slept. Stan smiled to himself, listening to his grandkids yell at each other and continue throwing their hard-earned flour. He knew his stomach would stay empty for a while, but that did not matter in this moment. Quietly, he retreated back downstairs to the shop, enjoying the noise of laughter and noise.

* * *

 

Eventually, after cleaning up the living room and giving a quick _ma'ariv_ before eating, the Pines siblings retired to their room in the back of the store. Dipper lied down in bed, contemplating the day. Mabel lied across from him, eyes half-open. Neither spoke. They both knew that the conversation they had before the flour fight was honest, despite the laughter during the end. Both knew the risks. Both knew the rewards.

Whatever feelings Mabel had for their Jewish culture, Dipper knew she would stand side-by-side with him. All bad things eventually came to an end, and someone needed to be there to pass on the precious books when the ban ended.

Downstairs, under the children, Stan Pines sat reading _Chesed le-Abraham_ by candlelight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “¡Eh, tú! ¡Regresa aquí!”-"Hey you! Stop!"  
> Santa Hermandads-A type of Spanish law enforcement that came before the Civil Guards  
> marranos-secret jewish families, usually maintained an air of christian Catholicism 
> 
> Hope you all are going to enjoy this ride with me! I probably have forgotten information about Judaism somewhere in this fic, so please, please give me advice on corrections! That goes for anything 18th century too. I can't wait until we get to the pirate arc. I'm currently writing the second chapter so ill probably be done in a month or so (jk.....hopefully). See you then. Feel free to correct my Spanish.


	2. What Comes Around...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for some mild description of chopped off appendages

Before dawn, Dipper set out on the streets of Spain to search for work. He walked along the cobblestone roads, the ground wet with water and refuse. The air smelled of the ocean and the stars continued twinkling in the darker parts of the sky. It had now been four years since Dipper had first taken a Jewish book meant for burning, and many more novels had been taken by the Pines siblings during that time, including non-Jewish authors. Now they had to travel distances for work and thieving in case a hermandad or unsympathetic person recognized then. 

As he walked along the road, Dipper felt eyes on him.  Turning, he looked to his left and saw a man sitting on the side the road, whistling.  Dipper felt suspicious, looking at him.  Gut instinct told him to be careful, and, looking more closely, he could spot a faint golden shine on the man’s left ear.  There was something dangling from it.

Dipper walked faster, not daring to run.  It was a pirate.  The wax dangling from the earring gave it away, telling him that the man was a cannon shooter; they used the wax to plug their ears when firing. Dipper inwardly tried to calm himself. Pirates didn’t make trouble for common folk. Much.

Then pirate’s whistling became faint as Dipper’s feet quickened. His senses heightened, he tried browsing his dim surroundings. All was quiet. Dipper looked at the houses on his right. All was quiet there too.

‘Something isn’t right.’ thought Dipper. ‘Between the silence of the morning and the pirate-’ He stopped. A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. He heard a slight ‘thump’ and a body hitting the ground. Before losing unconsciousness, he realized that the body hitting the ground was his own, and cursed himself for not being lazy enough to stay at home.

 --

“Pirates!”

Mabel woke with a start. Screams and the vibration of running feet coursed through her body. She jumped off the makeshift bed on the floor and looked to her right. Dipper was missing.

_‘Curse that fool.’_ she thought. Hurrying through the shop, she ran up the stairs to her Grunkle.

“Grunkle Stan!” she yelled once she got to the living room, but he was nowhere to be seen. May that fool be cursed too! She didn’t have time to this, all three of them had to flee.

She flew down the stairs, never pausing. Mabel’s eyes shifted back and forth, the rising dawn and torches outside the window her only light. She went to the furthest wall in the building while expertly dodging the tables cluttering the shop. Pushing away a desk against the wall, she crouched down and crawled through the hidden hole. Dust danced against her eyes until she hit the incline, the ceiling of the passageway now tall enough for her to briskly walk, but her body was still hunched over.

“Grunkle!” she yelled once again.

“Mabel? Is that you?” a raspy voice replied. Mabel walked faster, yelling an affirmation. She finally reach the end where the incline finished, stepping out into the higher, wider room. Stan Pines was sitting in the far corner, a pile of the books the Pines took surrounding him.

“We need to leave.” Mabel crouched down next to him. “There are pirates looting the village and Dipper is either dead or in hiding. I will go out and find my brother while you take Adatanto’s cog boat and sail in-between the rocks and hide there.” Her voice was urgent, a shakiness threatening it. Stan started shaking his head.

“No, Mabel! I will go in your place! You need to stay here, protect this-“ a book was shoved in her hand, “And protect yourself.” He gave her a painful smile.

She hesitated. Then Mabel returned the same expression. “Okay, Grunkle.” She shifted her body, and as Stan Pines rose upward to his niece, Mabel brought down the book upon his head with a ‘whop!’

Feeling guilty, Mabel gently laid down her Grunkle’s body. There was no use for her losing another piece of her family, she told herself. A concussion was better than death by sword.

Hurrying up the familiar ascent of the quasi-cave, she pushed back the desk to cover the hole once more. She grabbed her brother’s clothes and put them on herself in record time; running up the stairs to get the hidden blunderbuss under the floorboards. Mabel stopped, and turned back from the front door to the shop to take an old, rusty cutlass.

She headed out the front door, the smell of smoke and butchering pervading her senses. Taking out the gun tied to her waist, she began looking at her surrounding, trying to figure out a way to Dipper. _'He would’ve been looking for work along the port.’_

Mabel grimaced. The fighting would be thicker there. But if Mabel was scared of fighting, then she would’ve stayed behind.

Her mind made up, she ran towards the ocean, sword and book by her side and gun in her hands.

It wasn’t long before she encountered trouble. A small crowd of her neighbors were running in the opposite direction of Mabel, making it hard to make sense of where she was heading.

The first pirates she ever saw in her life were two men engaged in hand to hand combat. The high-quality swords gave away their occupation, but other than that, they looked like normal sailors, indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd.

It was…unusual to think that two pirates who were looting a village together would be fighting.

Knowing that staying around the pirates would be dangerous, she hurried on. They would finish each other off without her.

Mabel ran as far as she could, sticking to walls and the shadows as to not attract unwanted attention. The deeper she went, the more pirates she saw, and the more she became worried for Dipper.

She ducked into an unlighted house, catching her breath. Mabel was thick in pirate territory now, with bodies strewn across the road. Sticking her gun back into her sash, she tried thinking of a plan. There were too many enemies, and the Santa Hermandads had their hands full.

_'Or chopped off.’_

Mabel started giggling, adrenaline and fear effecting her mental state. Abruptly, she stopped. There wasn’t time for distractions, where could she-

A hand slapped over her face and another winded itself in her hair before she could scream.

“Looks like we got ourselves another spy, huh?” a raspy voice said behind her, grin prevalent in his tone.

Mabel tried to jerk away but failed. The grip on her hair meant he controlled most of her body, but, whether out of arrogance or unperceptiveness, her hands were not bound. She could’ve reached for her gun, but that would mean another pirate would come to investigate because of the noise. Another, stealthier opportunity needed to show.

Her vision forced to only look at the ground, she noticed a glint of metal under a broken piece of furniture. Mabel grinned. Bingo.

Her first priority was for the pirate to let go of her hair, and so, grabbing the cutlass faster than he could react, Mabel bore the sword down behind her, a scream of fury following the act. Blood poured down her neck, and she frowned at the unpleasant sensation.

Mabel jumped up to face her attacker, shifting the blade from her right hand to her left. The pirate across her was clutching his hand, the limb covered in blood. The blood originated from three stumps on top of the hand from which Mabel felt some guilty pleasure at causing.

There were two options she could do at this moment. One would be to attack and strike down her foe while he was distracted, and the other was to flee, hoping that he would not call for help.

The man continued to scream in agony. Then he snarled when realizing Mabel was still standing in his sights.

“The hell are you looking at, you bitch?” the pirate angrily yelled. So much for subtly. He started reaching towards his flintlock with his remaining hand. It looked like the choice was made for Mabel.

It only took a couple of strides until she reached him, hitting him over the head with the blunt end of the cutlass. She almost forgot that there was an option three! _‘How silly of me.’_ Mabel thought. _‘Today seems to be a day for knocking men unconscious.’_

The young woman crouched down next to her beaten enemy, scanning his body for weapons or useful materials. Her eyes naturally drifted towards the gory sight of his left hand, and her nose turned upward at the sight. It reminded her of the blood on her neck now intermingling with the sweat until her clothes. It was not a nice feeling.

It seemed her hair, or half of it, was a goner. Reaching up towards the back of her head, the suddenly neck-length hair made her frown more than the blood. _‘But I can’t just leave him like this.’_ Mabel thought, feeling a sense of sympathy towards her fallen enemy. There was also some satisfaction from defeating him. Not a lot of satisfaction, but enough. But also not enough to not stop the bleeding from his hand.

She noticed some curtains behind him, and used them to make a makeshift bandage on his hand. Maybe he would die of infection, but at least it wouldn’t be from blood loss. Smiling at a job well done, Mabel took his flintlock and monmouth cap, leaving the pirate’s sword behind.

“Three fingers and a gun for my hair.” She muttered to herself. “Seems like I got ripped off.”

Standing up, Mabel made her way back to the front door and continued her path further down the road. It had started raining, and the sound of rain and boots thumping reminded her of her purpose. Adjusting the monmouth cap, she set out once again into the chaos.

Mabel was getting frustrated. It had now been approximately an hour since she set out on foot. The blood on her body had partially dried, her feet were sore and wet, and now Mabel was cursing herself for not questioning the pirate she left unconscious. At least the rain had stopped, but that meant the people who wished to do her harm could see her more clearly.

Her impatience was reaching boiling points. She couldn’t find her brother, and it was looking increasingly likely that he was not in this area.

Someone was screaming. Mabel turned towards the noise; it was a pirate, heading straight towards her. Abandoning the stealthy persona, Mabel ran towards him, issuing a war cry of her own.

“Bring it on, baldy!” She yelled, cutlass in hand. Mabel was angry, and anger had to be dealt with somehow.  He probably didn’t need extra fingers anyway.

They both charged each other, cutlasses open. A forceful hand was suddenly on Mabel’s shoulder, but this time she was prepared for a fight and pissed to hell and back. She elbowed the stranger in the stomach and got behind them, keeping her eyes on the bald guy and his friend. Finding herself with some distance between them, she pulled out the flintlock and aimed, pulling the trigger.

Except it seemed that a flintlock was more complicated to shoot than a blunderbuss, or else there were no more bullets left. Shit.

Her precious seconds were up, and two strong arms went under her own, holding her in place. She tried kicking her attacker, but they either managed to dodge or just ignore the pain. More hands descended on her, with baldy and his friends yelling at each other. Rope was tied across her hands and feet, and her weapons were taken. There was only one thing left to do.

“Let me go, you cowards! I’ll hang you by your teeth! I’ll decapitate your head and then put it on a stick in front of your weeping mother! Release me and I’ll let you live!”

The group of people surrounding her continued talking over her screaming, which was a very rude thing to do in company. Mabel tried to pick out the words they were yelling, but she could not understand them. It seemed they spoke a foreign language.

Mabel let out an undignified squawk when the strongest-looking man of the group picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, her hands and feet still tightly bound.

This was not going to end well. The man continued to carry her, but her vision was limited in this position. She growled in frustration, and the man holding her captive snorted in amusement. Bastard.

It wasn’t long until they all reached some sort of boat. The pirate threw her down on the floor like a sack of potatoes, enforcing Mabel’s decision that he would be the first one to go. The other men started speaking to each other or walked off in different directions. Some of them seemed to be in a hurry, running off to the quarterdeck. The numerous sails on the ship started unfurling, and her peripheral vision showed more walking or limping people boarding the ship.

Mabel was starting to get more and more nervous as her anger passed. Men were at the front and back of her, shouting in a language she could not understand while the ship was presumably getting ready to sail. Mabel’s breath became faster. The scratch of the rope was becoming unbearable, even through the thick clothes. Her brother was missing or dead. She had no idea where she was and everyone around her were strangers.

_‘Think, Mabel.’_ She thought, closing her eyes. ‘ _There is always a way out of something, Grunkle Stan taught you that.’_

Maybe her long fingernails were sharp enough to weaken the ropes. Then she could break them and jump over the ship before anyone could react…But then she would have to try not to be pulled under...

“Good morning, Señor. Sorry for all the trouble we have caused you, we just wanted to ask you a few questions.” A man said, approaching her. He was obviously the captain, the fine clothing and detailing betraying his position on the ship. There was something off about what he said; it was nagging at her brain.

“You talk in a weird way, Captain.” She replied, keeping her voice low. She wasn’t going to take any chances by correcting him. He started smiling at her, a little upturn of the lips. She browsed his face, thinking back to the way he spoke at her. This man was not Spanish, she could now see that. Despite the dark hair his nose was broader, the lips thinner, the skin paler. He would’ve stood out in her village.

“Yes, I has taken me many years to learn your lovely Spanish language, but the finer pronunciations allude me.” He stated, confirming her suspicions. “But let us get back to the main subject. The reason my men took you was because you are a spy working for Captain Cipher. One of my men said that when he found you out you cut off three of his fingers.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. A rope to her limbs and accusations of spying was what she got for trying to be nice!

“My rigger is with the surgeon now, but later you will meet him. Now give me several, confidential reasons as to why I shouldn’t stuff you into one of my cannons and light it up.” The captain lowered himself closer to her, making eye-to-eye contact. Mabel averted her gaze.

“Because-“ she started, swallowing, “Because the cannon would have no space for the gunpowder to ignite and all you would have would be a mess and possibly a self-exploding cannon.”

The man started laughing.

“But honest! I don’t know who this captain is or what you’re doing here, I was just trying to look for my brother! We got separated when you attacked my village!” she sputtered.

The captain had ceased laughing by this point, but he started looking at her more intently, which Mabel much less preferred.

“Brother? What’s his name?” he questioned.

“Dipper.” She said, hesitant.

The captain let out a thoughtful noise. He rose up from his crouched position and yelled something at the men on the quarterdeck, and they rushed over to where Mabel sat. Fear gripped her, but she stayed silent. Her last words would not be begging for her life.

One of the pirates approached her with a knife. Sweat dripped down her temple as the bald one came up behind her.

The ropes around her hands fell off. Then the crewman went in front of her and cut off the rope at her feet. Shocked, Mabel looked up to the captain. He was smirking.

“Welcome aboard The Eel, Señor…?”

“Manny.” She said, still reeling from the turn of events. “My name is Manny.”

“Manny, would you like to join me and my crew? I can see you as a Master Gunner in our future, what with your knowledge on stuffing human bodies into cannons.” He asked.

It seemed that there was still some anger left in her after all.

“What do you mean, _join your crew_? You left my village to burn! My brother is probably dead! You kidnapped me and accused me of being a spy! I don’t even know your name!” her breath came out heavy. A moment of silence followed her outburst with the exception of the noise of the crew working in the backdrop. She now forcibly looked him in the eyes.

“It was a misunderstanding-“ he began.

“A misunderstanding-!”

“A past associate of mine decided to loot the village at the same time I decided to dock here. Misunderstandings at our intentions arose. That is why I boarded you here, after the man you decided to chop the fingers off complained of you spying-“

“I did not decided to chop his fingers off, he left me with no choice-“

“Regardless, here you are, and your brother is on my…associate’s ship, ironically also accused of being a spy, and heading off to sea right now.” He coolly informed her. Mabel stayed silent, thoughts and ideas rushing in. “I took the liberty of informing the captain of the other ship that I had his sibling in my custody, and that your brother was not a spy of mine. We both lost men tonight, so I do not doubt the dear captain will want to recruit Dipper as well.”

He smiled. “My name is Thaddeus Strange, but my men call me Captain Tad. Will you join my crew, and in the process possibly cross paths with your brother?” Tad reached out his hand, offering it to Mabel.

Mabel took his hand.

* * *

 

Back in a small village on the coast of Spain, an older man was lying asleep on the ground of his living room, a trickle of blood flowing from the wound on his head. Straining his ears, he tried listening for any noise coming from downstairs. None came. There was no creaking, no laughter, no children playing. The only sound that came was the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad we're now going into the Pirate Arc!! Next up will be more of poor Dipper's POV


End file.
